


Every Day More of Me and Less of Who

by Lisa_Telramor



Category: Magic Kaito
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Anonymous Sex, Guilt, Hook-Up, M/M, Poor Life Choices, Self destructive behaviors, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:00:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23641234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisa_Telramor/pseuds/Lisa_Telramor
Summary: Kaito hooks up with people to deal with being Kid
Relationships: Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid/Other(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31
Collections: Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2016





	Every Day More of Me and Less of Who

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LJ on March 20 2016 and for some reason not here... >_> Sigh. For the comment fic community on LJ: any. any. "Touch me, touch me, touch me, touch me... I wanna feel dirty."

Hands gripped Kaito’s hips hard and he groaned knowing there would be finger shaped bruises tomorrow. The person holding him still wasn’t gentle as they fucked into him, but he didn’t want gentle. He wanted hard and fast and dirty, here and gone with nothing but aches to remind him of his actions. The man above him grunted and thrust hard. Kaito’s back arched into it, making it deeper and getting the angle just right to drive the desperate spiral of pleasure-pain higher.  
  
It was like the edge of adrenaline on a heist or the addictive rush of freefall before the glider caught the wind and held his weight. Kaito was rocking along the line of risks and rewards with this, anonymous sex with a stranger because he could. Because he needed that thrill. Because it satisfied the selfish part of him as much as it satisfied the self-loathing part, the endorphins of orgasm and carnal pleasure juxtaposed against feeling used and dirty.  
  
The man above him thrust one last time, emptying himself into the condom he wore and biting hard at Kaito’s shoulder. It would bruise, and at the back of his mind, Kaito felt annoyed; one more thing to cover up, one more lie to tell if anyone noticed. The man braced himself, panting, and stilled, but made no move to help Kaito finish.  
  
Kaito growled in frustration, wiggling a hand between them to reach his erection and came with only three strokes, shuddering and curling up into the man above him with the force of it.  
  
He came back to awareness to the guy pulling out and gathering up his clothes. Kaito didn’t bother moving. He stayed sprawled where he was on the shitty love hotel bed, staring up at the ceiling and the discolored spots indicative of past water damage.  
  
The man threw Kaito’s shirt at his face. “That was fun,” he said, gruff voiced and as far from Aoko’s laughter as Kaito could get for choosing someone at random. “I’d be up for this sort of thing again if you’re into it.”  
  
“Nah.” Kaito didn’t look in his direction. “I don’t sleep with someone twice.”  
  
The man snorted. “Okay. Suit yourself.” He zipped up his pants. “I didn’t break you did I?”  
  
Kaito propped himself up on his elbows, one eyebrow raised, skeptically. “Darling,” he said in his most falsely-suave voice, “you were barely rough enough to bruise. Now if we’d been doing something that required safe words, you could worry.”  
  
The man snorted again and bent down to get his shoes. “Yeah, too kinky for my taste.”  
  
“Mm.” Kaito stretched, knowing he was being looked over and appreciated for it. “To each their own. A bit of pain makes the pleasure even better.” He pressed his fingers against the bruises on his hips and laughed to himself internally as the guy had to look away.  
  
“Right. Well, see ya.” The door closed behind a hasty exit.  
  
Kaito flopped back onto the dingy mattress. “Five minutes to get up and leave. Might be a new record,” he mumbled. And the man hadn’t been enticed for another round with that stretch either. That was fine. It all was fine.  
  
He felt cold now, sweat and semen damp and chilling on his skin. His ass ached a bit and there was lube streaked along the inside of his thighs slowly drying. Spit from where he was bitten on his shoulder. None on his lips. He didn’t kiss the men he slept with, and they didn’t kiss him. There were no illusions of a romantic liaison with these encounters. No pretending it was anything but sexual.  
  
The high was fading and with it came the crash where he felt wrong in his own skin. It was something he felt almost all the time now, not right as Kaito, not quite right as Kid, definitely not right soaked in sweat and ejaculate and sleeping with anyone who didn’t remind him of Aoko in any way. It was almost funny because for a few moments during sex, he did feel right. When he was held down or pain edged along the pleasure, he felt like the world made sense and his body was his rather than belonging to someone he wasn’t anymore. He slept with men, only with men, and never the same one twice because in a roundabout way it was even more distance from the Aoko-shaped guilt he carried around and it made him feel dirtier like that guilt and her dislike of Kid were even more justified.  
  
On the floor, in his jeans pocket, his cell phone buzzed. Kaito listened to it for a second, then rolled to snag his jeans off the floor. “Moshi moshi?” Aoko’s voice filled the other end and Kaito felt every bit of filth covering his skin and how dingy his surroundings were. “Ah, yeah, I’m not busy,” he said to her questions. “Not busy at all…”  
  
When he hung up the phone, he headed for the shower to wash away the sweat and semen and saliva. He couldn’t wash the bruises away, and he knew he’d feel them as he was with Aoko, and remember why he couldn’t be with her.  
  
He didn’t want to drag her into the filth with him.


End file.
